


Merlin's Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day

by seapotato



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Caretaking, M/M, No Spoilers, arthur pays attention, extremely minor injury, for me and arthur, gaius briefly, self indulgent, sometimes you just have a stupid day, sweet bullying, terrible flirting, textured soft, zero angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:35:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24983197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seapotato/pseuds/seapotato
Summary: It started that morning with Merlin rolling out of bed and stepping on a small sliver of glass. He'd broken one of Gaius's jars in here the other day trying to mix up a magical indicator—something he could drop into Arthur's wine or on his food to see if it had been enchanted. The glass splinter lodged itself into the meat of his heel and no matter how he picked and tore at it, he couldn't get the right angle to pull it out. Whatever. Fine. That was fine. He'd just tie a little cotton padding under it to cushion it for now. Gaius surely had something he could use to pull it out later.It continued when he limped to the wash basin and knocked the ceramic ewer over, directly onto the foot of his bed. He desperately tried to grab his blanket and shake the water off but much of it had already soaked in. He'd have to strip the whole bed and flip the pitiful mattress up so it would dry. Of course. Of course glass in his foot wasn't enough for this morning.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 34
Kudos: 367





	Merlin's Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [seapotato](https://archiveofourown.org/users/seapotato/gifts).



> oH nO mErLiN iS hAvInG a bAD dAy ~~~~~who will cheer him up??????~~~~~
> 
> [for the prompt shy, shoulder, mushroom]

It started that morning with Merlin rolling out of bed and stepping on a small sliver of glass. He'd broken one of Gaius's jars in here the other day trying to mix up a magical indicator—something he could drop into Arthur's wine or on his food to see if it had been enchanted. The glass splinter lodged itself into the meat of his heel and no matter how he picked and tore at it, he couldn't get the right angle to pull it out. Whatever. Fine. That was fine. He'd just tie a little cotton padding under it to cushion it for now. Gaius surely had something he could use to pull it out later.

It continued when he limped to the wash basin and knocked the ceramic ewer over, directly onto the foot of his bed. He desperately tried to grab his blanket and shake the water off but much of it had already soaked in. He'd have to strip the whole bed and flip the pitiful mattress up so it would dry. Of course. Of course glass in his foot wasn't enough for this morning. 

And, finally, he slipped on the small puddle of water on the floor as soon as he pivoted to gather up the wet bedding, hitting not only his elbow on the way down, but also landing directly on his tailbone at the corner of where his rug covered the stone. 

Alright. Okay. So that's the kind of day it was. Merlin sat on the floor, thoroughly awake and aimlessly angry at everything. He was not going to cry because that would be ridiculous. He was going to grit his teeth and get up because the light in the room told him if he wasn't at Arthur's chambers in ten minutes he was going to be late. The bed he could deal with later, and the soreness on his elbow and tailbone would wear off. He carefully stood up and left the bedding on the floor over the puddle. Hobbled over for a change of tunic and trousers. Took a few deep breaths. Splashed what was left in the ewer on his face. Right. Today was just a day. He could handle it. 

He was actually feeling a bit better as he reached for the door when it suddenly swung open and hit him in the face. 

“Merlin, you're going to be—oh, my apologies.”

Merlin slumped against the wall and cradled his nose. “Gaius!”

“What are you doing lurking behind the door? You're going to be late to Arthur,” Gaius said looking irritated, as if he were the one who got hit in the face.

“I know, I wasn't lurking I was—never mind, I've got to go,” his nose hurt like hell but it wasn't broken. 

He tried to push past Gaius but Gaius didn't budge. “Not like that you aren't,” he said, and raised an eyebrow pointedly at the pile of bedding on the ground. 

Merlin managed to wiggle around him, calling over his shoulder, “I'll pick it up later, I promise!”

On the way from his room to Arthur's he banged his hip on Gaius's worktable; slipped on the staircase and hit his knee while also stumbling hard on his heel which dug the glass in; realized he had eaten nothing and abruptly started to get a headache; and discovered he had a crick in his neck from how he'd slept the night before. Three other servants stopped him in the hallway to just _chat it up_ even though he pointedly told him he was _late_ to the _prince_ but they all did the same sort of eye roll and nudge like Merlin was in on it, whatever “it'” was, like being late on purpose was the best they could come up with for subtle disrespect or something.

One of them even said as they lounged by a window, “Royalty, right? Can't wait even a minute for their breakfast,” and Merlin had just shouted “No!” in his face, which he realized didn't make much sense other than a general existential _no_ that meant he wanted everything and everyone to go away. 

When he finally got to Arthur's room he was battered and bruised and in a foul mood. Why couldn't he have one _normal, pleasant day_? Why did he always have to _deal with something_? Were bad luck curses a thing? Had someone cursed him?

He glared at Arthur's breakfast tray as he slammed it onto the table. 

“Alright get up, I don't have time for this today,” he said as he frowned at the window curtains and yanked them open, ignoring how he heard a seam rip towards the top. “You've got a ceremony at half past and you're going to be impossible all day if you don't get to run around outside first, pretending to practice your horsemanship when I know you're just going for a leisure ride,” he stomped over to Arthur's wardrobe and immediately felt like an idiot because his heel spiked with pain as if the glass in it were a three inch needle instead of a splinter. “Your breakfast is cold and no, I don't care nor do I believe that a hot breakfast is necessary to fulfilling your royal duties,” he dug around for Arthur's semi-formal wear which he couldn't find even though they had to be here somewhere, damn it. He grew more desperate and started tossing clothes out, swearing under his breath. He couldn't have a single thing, could he, everything had to be difficult, everything needed a solution, he couldn't just—

“You don't have time for what?”

Arthur's voice came from the bed, which he hadn't bothered to look at when he was going around the room. Arthur sat on the corner, fully dressed except for his boots, looking wide awake and like he couldn't tell if he wanted to laugh in Merlin's face or throw something at him.

Frustration bubbled up inside of Merlin. At this point, he would normally either sulk about it or say “nothing,” demurely and hope Arthur didn't give him stable duty. But the whole morning—it had barely been an hour since he got up—had been stupid and difficult and Merlin's temper was frayed thin. Arthur had already gotten up and dressed, had probably already eaten, and here Merlin had actually been worried that he was late, and that Arthur needed the food he brought and would need someone to toss the right clothes at him but he was apparently just fine without all that which meant every bruise and frustration so far had been worth _absolutely nothing_. 

“Well?” Arthur said as he tugged his boots on, “What don't you have time for, exactly?”

He sounded pompous and smug and Merlin was entirely done.“You! I don't have time for you and your—ugh!” Merlin shouted and threw his hands up then crossed them over his chest for lack of anything better to do with them. 

Arthur snorted then stood and stretched. He walked slowly over to Merlin. Merlin was positive he was about to get slapped on the back of his head or a hundred years of polishing boots. He held his ground, though, because he was still angry at everything, which included Arthur, and his heel was throbbing. With his luck today it was probably infected. Arthur stopped in front of him, tilted his head like he was considering something. Merlin tipped his chin up and tried not to shove him back because that would be too petulant and he was above that. Also, Arthur tended to shove back a bit harder.

“You skipped breakfast didn't you?”

“What?” Merlin said, surprised into dropping his glare.

“I knew it. You always get like this when you skip. Insufferable, insolent, inarticulate,” Arthur was steering and shoving Merlin down into a chair at the table before Merlin could say anything back.

“Eat it. All of it.” 

The plate held an array of wood mushrooms, boiled eggs, sausage, a bit of fruit, and a green thing that looked too wilted. All of it was entirely cold. 

“No,” Merlin said, because it turned out he was that petulant, and tried to stand. Arthur pressed down hard on his shoulders so that he was stuck there.

“You aren't getting up until you eat it all. And if you don't start eating now, you'll make me late.” Arthur squeezed his shoulders hard which was probably supposed to be threatening but actually felt pretty nice considering how the soreness of his neck radiated down his shoulder blades.

Arthur waited until Merlin muttered “ _Fine_ ,” and shoved a forkful of mushrooms into his mouth before he asked, “What's wrong with your foot?”

Merlin stabbed angrily at a sausage. “Got a thing in it.” He really didn't want to talk about it. He wanted to angrily eat Arthur's cold but annoyingly delicious breakfast and he wanted to do it in peace so that he could continue to stay angry at everything. 

Arthur squeezed Merlin's shoulders again, this time a shade tighter so that it did hurt a bit. Merlin prodded at his wrist with the fork. “Stop that, it's nothing. Just a bit of glass, I'll pull it out later.”

The pressure on Merlin's shoulders was suddenly gone as Arthur dragged a chair over and sat down. Without so much as a by-your-leave he yanked Merlin's chair around so they were facing each other, grabbed Merlin's leg, and hoisted his foot into his lap. “Hey!” Merlin protested, dropping a bit of mushroom on the floor because now that he was eating he didn't want to stop. “Let me go!”

Arthur ignored him and pulled Merlin's boot off, shoved his pant leg up, then took his sock off and let it drop carelessly to the ground along with the little wad of cotton he'd used to pad his heel. Arthur's hand closed around Merlin's ankle, his calluses rough against Merlin's ankle bone, and Merlin felt his face immediately flush.

“You're an idiot,” Arthur said, propping Merlin's foot up as he examined the heel. Merlin slid down a bit in the chair when Arthur tugged to get a better view. “Hold still, will you?” Arthur admonished.

“You keep shoving me around!”

“This is going to hurt,” Arthur said and it was the only warning Merlin got before Arthur let go of his ankle and pressed his fingers on either side of where the glass was lodged. Merlin couldn't help but flinch.

“ _Ouch!_ ”

“I told you not to move. I see it, this will hurt too.”

Arthur pinched at the skin between his fingers and Merlin felt it when Arthur grabbed the glass and slid it out. He carefully set the glass sliver on the table. Then he picked up, refolded, and retied the cotton to Merlin's heel, dabbing at a few spots of blood first. He tossed Merlin's sock onto his lap and left the boot tipped over under the table. 

“Hurry up and finish your breakfast,” Arthur said. He tousled Merlin's hair as he stood to finish getting ready. 

It was impossible to hate everything as much now, what with the ankle holding and the careful way Arthur had retied the cotton. Merlin resented Arthur thoroughly for ruining his bad mood and shoved half an egg into his mouth to keep from smiling. 

**Author's Note:**

> Do you ever write something and you're like, "god they are just so--! and then they--! and the way he--! ugh they just need to put their faces together! kiss gdi!" having completely forgotten that you're the one writing it and you did this to yourself? ~sigh~
> 
> And yes, I did gift this work to myself, because I too had a stupid day and writing this was my own present.


End file.
